To Love a Monster
by ECpotofan
Summary: Christine births a beautiful boy to Raoul but later discovers that things aren't always as they seem. She questions Gustave's father and later runs into someone she never expected to see again.
1. Prologue

I decided to get rid of my old story - looking back, it was very weird. I wrote this story on Wattpad recently and wanted to share it further. There is a much darker side to this story. Hopefully you'll like it :-D

* * *

The de Chagny manor has grace and charm, with every resident down to the few scullery maids in pristine fashion. There is an extravagance to the place to which one resident, in particular, does not care for. She stands before the mirror, swollen with a child, as she feels birthing pains start to settle in. The physician has gone on holiday, the midwife is gone and her husband - she does not know. It is up to her to take care of herself and she does so in the washroom, in a hot tub of water. The child is coming and she can feel the numbness in her legs as something starts to spill out. She recalls everything - thoughts are clouding her strength to push...

 _He rests her on the comfortable bed as his deft fingers graze gently over her torso. She does not really want this, but she cannot help but feel enticed. She shivers at his touch at the realization that his suave nature has worked its way around her. Christine fears for her marriage and she cannot stop the man above her from working his magic..._

Christine is in tears. Her hips convulse in spastic, painful contractions. The water is beginning to get filthy and she horribly frightened by the red that is floating up to the surface - is the child alright, is all she can think. Is my baby safe?..

 _Her eyes are closed as she cannot bear to look at him. Something has taken hold of her and she doesn't know how to say no - or how to say anything, really. She trusted him with everything, yet he lays atop her pounding ruthlessly into her. She is fully convinced he has gone mad..._

The pain is taking her in thralls and she feels faint, but she has to keep up strength for the child. Christine squeezes her arm to keep herself awake and she stifles a cry as she feels the angry wrath of her pelvic muscles. There is more blood and tears stream down her face. She looks to her nightgown and feels a swelling sensation, her eyes clenching shut. Please, she mentally begs...

 _"Please! Stop!"_

 _She finds the words, but he continues. He wouldn't dare... would he? She trusted him with everything and thought that he would treat her accordingly, but to no avail. She attempts a scream, but he covers her mouth quickly and still loves her body. Tears run down her cheeks and she is heartbroken by his actions, but he cannot stop..._

Christine gasps and her body finally tastes relief. A small being enters the water and she reaches up for the scissors, setting them onto the rim of the bath. She pulls the small creature out of the water and he cries; her son is born. Christine gazes at her child's beautiful face as he cries up to her and coddles him into her chest. She slices the cord and dips the bottom half of the infant into the water which has become lukewarm...

 _He finally lets go after tightly clinging to her form post release. Christine shudders under his weight until he stands up and once again tosses the gown onto the bed, "I hate you!"_

Her child is dressed in white from head to toe and she is dry in her nightgown. She sits in close proximity to the fireplace as her infant son nurses and looks hopefully into the burning flames. Her boy's little hand jerks up feebly and she rubs his hand in between her fingers. He seems to smile at his mother's closeness and nuzzles into her breast even though he has finished nursing.

Christine hears the front door open and hears giggling, a girl dressed in a red ballgown goes into the bedroom of the maids. She sees her husband enter the parlor and he cocks his head at the child as if to question why. Christine slowly stands up, covers her breast, and brings the boy to his father. Raoul accepts the child, but the boy tenses up for a moment until Christine reaches out to caress his tiny face. She looks to her husband and notices his furrowed brows, "I'm," she shakes her head and takes the child, "Christine?"

Christine stops at the head of the staircase and cocks her head to face him, "I apologize. I should have been here."

With a scoff, she shakes her head, "Do not worry. I suppose it is my duty to mother him alone."


	2. Chapter 1

Christine rushes around the manor after her now crawling son. He, eleven months old, giggles around the nursery as Christine tries desperately to calm him down for bed. Finally, she catches him and holds him to her chest, trying to sway him to sleep; but the child is restless and grabs at mama's hair, "Oh, fine."

Christine sets the boy on the ground and allows him to play with his toys as she sits a few feet away in a rocking chair. Much has changed in a year and she now notices very peculiar things about her child; Gustave. He is incredibly intelligent. Unlike most boys his age, who still rely on hands and knees and mama's arms for transportation, he is able to toddle from one side of the room to the other without a bit of help. Neverminding that, he builds incredible things with his wooden blocks - things that she didn't even have the imagination to think of. He is beginning to speak, although his words barely make sense, she knows he attempts it. She is proud, yet scared by her little boy.

The door opens to the nursery and Raoul comes in to kiss his wife. She welcomes him with open arms, then nervously turns to Gustave. Raoul looks over at the boy proudly, giving her three pats on the back, "You've birthed a terrific child, Christine. I am happy to have such a miraculous child."

She smiles at him for a mere second, but the flashbacks return. Christine loses her bright smile almost immediately and feels a single tear glide down the smooth crevice made by her nose and cheek. She stands up carefully, almost losing her footing, but holds on to her dear husband, "Raoul, I think it's time-"

"I've been thinking the same."

Christine smiles, but once again loses it instantaneously. Raoul couldn't possibly understand her needs, but he was her husband and so she would give him the chance, "Are you sure?"

"Most definitely."

She backs away, glancing at Gustave's wondrous creation. He continues to get even better at the construction of these models that she wonders how his abilities have come to be, "Really?"

"You want a sibling for our boy," he reaches out to caress her cheek and Christine's worst fears are realized, "Isn't that it? To make sure he is less lonely?"

She wants to tell the truth about what she desperately needs, but is afraid of rejection to her desire. The only way her need will be met is if she tells him, though, and she is almost certain about how he'll react, "Not exactly. Raoul," his face creases, her little finger grazing his pencil thin mustache, "I want music again."

He shakes his head, taking her hands in his, "Christine, you know why I cannot grant you that wish."

"Yes, Raoul, but it will heal me," she wraps his arms around her waist and brings him in tighter, "please."

He grazes over her soft head of curly hair with a single hand, then taking her by the wrist downstairs. Christine is misled for a moment until he takes the wooden bar off a set of red double doors. Raoul glances at her for a moment and opens the doors to a large room with a grand piano in the center. It seems to have been abandoned for a long while with dust over everything.

"I will have to arrange for the maids to clean it up, but I am sure you will-"

"It is wonderful," she inhales the musty air of the closeted room and grazes her fingertips over the keys of the piano; savoring the cold ivory, "I was wondering..."

"Yes, dear?"

Christine lifts her hand from the piano's keys and observes the dust on her fingertips which are now stained gray. The last ray of sunlight disappears from the window and a pink sky is left over. Music begins to fill her mind already, but she knows that he would not let young Gustave ever be subjected to music.

"Never-mind me. I am only a foolish girl," she turns to her husband and he nods, leaving her in the large, dust-filled room to the piano, "It is too bad you aren't alive," she sits at the piano and touches the charm around her neck, "Gustave would have loved you, father."

Christine smoothes over the keys again and dust covers her fingers. She strikes a chord and that piano is completely flat, leaving her ears in a painful ring. But it comes back to her - she is frightened...

 _"You will obey, Christine!"_

 _"No!"_

 _Had she not witnessed his true terror, she would have assumed he was in a drunken stupor. She wanted more than life to believe he was the sweet gentleman, "If you don't follow my orders, you will suffer the consequences."_

 _"Please!" she cries out in agony, feeling the ravaging fire in her veins, "Leave me be! I beg of you!"_

Christine turns around to her babbling son, jumping up in horror, "How did you-"

"Sorry to frighten you, Christine," Raoul waits by the door of the room, smiling at his beautiful wife, "He was crying and I assumed he missed you."

"O," she gazed down at her boy and lifted him into her arms, his small hands cupping her full cheeks, "Thank you, Raoul."

Christine looks at the face of her son and tussles the small patch of curls on the top of his head. He toothlessly giggles and wraps his arms around her neck in a small hug, making his mother feel loved. Christine pets her son, slowly walking out of the room so as not to disturb him. A warmth stays in her heart as she discovers how much she loves her little boy and Gustave breathes deeply as if he has realized it.

Christine enters the nursery and sinks into the rocking chair, preparing to feed her son. Gustave whines as she starts loosening the top of her gown, but stops once she finally nurses him. Christine cradles his head and looks outside at the bright moon and stars scattering the skies. Raoul has gone again, but she will patiently wait for him to return.


	3. Chapter 2

_"All I wanted was your love!"_

Christine tosses in turns in her marital bed, a cold sweat upon her face. She dreams of the dreaded horror that she sees in daily flashbacks. It frightens her, but it also intrigues her - why? Something so vile plagues her innocent mind constantly...

 _"Leave me alone! You had your wishes!"_

 _"You know perfectly well that isn't what I wanted."_

 _"Why?!" her eyes are red, most likely from crying, "Why did you do it!?"_

 _He glares back at her, but she avoids the obvious distaste in his eyes. He gives no answer - only walks off into the night. Her cold, shivering body lays on the bed and all she can feel is numbness. She wants the answer - why did he do it? - and she is afraid that she will never know the limits of his wrath..._

Christine quickly sits up and sees the shadow of a man beside her bed. She falls in terror before the massive shadow, but tears come to her eyes when she realizes it is only her husband. The dreams and visions haunt her so much that all men appear terrifying, "Well," Raoul hangs his overcoat on the stand and bends down to his wife to give her a kiss, "I apologize for frightening you awake."

Raoul kisses her again, this time caressing her cheek. Her skin is ice and he pulls away, "You are freezing, dear!" Christine only stares blankly, still frightened from her night terrors, "Let us get you into bed."

* * *

Christine removes her croissants from the oven and sets them on the counter to cool, staring blankly as she fans the hot pasties. Her boy tugs at her skirts and she drops the fan, holding him instead. She loves her child more than words - more than music - but she still shakes from her terrors. She is fearful of many people, some of whom she once took for friends, and she wants more than ever to just be normal. To be a normal wife and mother is the only thing she desires.

She grabs one the croissants and takes a small bite, feeling her anxiety melt away. Her son shoves the pastry into her mouth and she laughs, chewing the flaky bread. Gustave feels happiness to no end. He is being held and loved and he wants no more than to just stay in mama's arms. Christine heads off into the parlor and just as she sits down there is a knock on the front door, "I'll answer it, Madame," the maidservant cheers.

Christine glances down at her baby boy whose head is now snuggled into her breast. Raoul steps into the parlor as well, taking a bite of a croissant, "For a Swede, you make some delicious French pastries."

Raoul glances towards the front and smiles at his wife, "We have guests."

Christine cuddles Gustave a bit tighter, making him coo. Once the guests step inside she recognizes them as Raoul's parents, but there is someone else. She notices a blonde-haired lady and an older woman and smiles fondly at them, "Christine!"

Christine smiles at her friend and Madame Giry covers her mouth as soon as she sees the baby boy. Meg hugs her friend and looks at the child in her arms, smiling at the boy, "Christine, he is so handsome!" Madame Giry sits to the other side of Christine, smoothing over the baby's cheek, "It is a boy, right?"

"Yes, Madame," Christine looks down at her son and he laughs up to her, "My little boy," she says with a kiss to his nose.

Raoul sits with his parents at the other side of the parlor, taking pride in his manhood at the fact that he can produce a boy. Christine still struggles to understand the importance of bearing sons, but she looks down lovingly at her child nonetheless, "May we see the nursery, Christine?"

Christine looks to her proud husband again and then agrees to leave the room. The Giry's follow her up to the nursery and her little boy cheers upon seeing the door. Madame opens the door for Christine, "O," she steps inside and flicks on the lamp, kicking her son's blocks out of the way, "You should see this. I do not understand, but he already toddles."

Christine set her son down and wobbled all the way to his blocks. Madame stares at the boy curiously - as if she is having flashbacks herself, "How old is the boy?"

"He is only eleven months."

Madame watches Gustave begin to construct something with his blocks, "Odd."

Gustave starts to build what seems to be very juvenile, but the project turns into something greater as he continues. Madame observes the boy carefully, then develops an odd feeling - as if a thousand eyes are watching her. She grabs Meg by the wrist, her body shivering, "Come, Meg. We must go!"

Christine stands up quickly and follows her friends to the hall, "Why must you go in such a hurry?"

Christine is stopped by Madame's ice cold hand and she sees beyond her stern face this time. Madame looks about as frightened as she was from her night terrors, "I worry for you, Christine," she looks at her friends and lowers her head, "I only know one person that brilliant. Hopefully you are safe."

Christine watches coldly as her friends walk down the marble staircase, her chest feeling heavier with each breath she takes. She wanders into the nursery and glances at her son, who smiles at her with all the gaps of his teeth. She looks at his creation and tears fill her eyes. Christine falls to her knees and bends over a sobbing mess. A tiny hand rests on her head and she hears the word, "Mama," come out of her child's mouth.

She looks up at the boy and is confused about whether to be afraid or joyful.


	4. Chapter 3

"Christine!"

Christine puts the last pin into her hair to form a chignon at the back of her head, her son tugging at her skirts. He exclaims 'mama' over and over until she holds him and snuggles him into her chest. Christine puts a blue bonnet on her head and leaves the parlor to see Raoul standing beside the front door, "Finally," he kisses his wife and Gustave grabs his small mustache, "All-right, all-right."

Raoul squeezes Gustave's hand off and adorns his top hat, leading them outside. Christine took to the carriage, sitting Gustave on her lap as Raoul stepped inside. The carriage began to move and Gustave cheered happily at the bouncing cart, "You forgot to tell me where we are going, Raoul."

"I want to surprise you."

Christine held each of her son's hands, realizing how big they were for a child his age. Her boy was growing up rather quickly, "There are only a few places I know where people must dress this nicely."

"You are an upper-class lady, now, Christine," he smiled at her lovely features all brought out by the expensive gown she dawned, giving her another, "You look marvelous."

A fake smile crossed her lips and she looked down at her child once again. Gustave looked up to her and grinned, leaning into her belly. Raoul looked at his child and felt proud to father such a magnificent boy - an intelligent and sweet babe. Gustave looked to the window outside and saw the many stars stretching across the sky all around what seemed a large, unmoving cloud, "Star!"

Raoul looked at the child questionably, taken aback by his sudden ability to speak. He glanced up at Christine who seemed exhausted, "Have you taught him to speak?"

Christine observed Raoul's amazement, but did not know how to explain her child's sudden ability to verbalize. Gustave smiled at his mother and she nodded, "Yes. He knows only two words."

The carriage stopped at a small building and Raoul stepped outside to help his wife exit. Christine set Gustave on the ground and took each of their hands as they went towards the small building. Several people dressed in various statuses entered and left the building and Christine saw two paintings - one on either side of the building's doors. It was death and a lady.

"Children come free! Ten francs per couple!"

Raoul handed ten francs to a man in blue uniform and brought his family in what Christine recognized as a theater. Gustave looked around in awe at the small, but lovely building. He gawked at the various instruments on display - the violins, flutes, and clarinets. Statues of characters from the work of operas, paintings from the renaissance, and a pair of golden curtains led to box one of the homey theater.

"Well we are most definitely in a theater building," Christine held Gustave on her lap and Raoul sat just beside her, "but what are we to see?"

"A piece from one of your favorite composers. I am sure you will enjoy it. And if Gustave is anything like you, he will be entirely enamored."

Christine watches as a bassist begins to set up his instrument, 2 cellists following. She glances at her son who stares brightly at the instruments on stage, the violins and violas catching his eye most. The musicians are seated on stage and everyone awaits the concert - especially Gustave. A D minor chord, then triplets down to four. As the chord sang again, Gustave sat on the edge of mother's lap and watched the musicians more carefully. Christine steadied her child as he leaned forward to see the musicians through the barred rail of the box. He was obsessed with the music - interested in every note and curious about the instruments they played.

Everyone clapped at the first movement, Raoul smiling over at Christine, "Do you like it, darling? I see Gustave is quite happy."

She nodded and on went movement two. Three was a quick scherzo that lead up to four and Gustave was in awe the entire time. The audience stood and applauded the string group, Gustave grabbing at the rails and watching as the curtains close on the musicians. Christine holds her son who makes little-wanting noises as he extends his hand to the stage, "Music!" he cheers.

"I suppose the boy is hooked," Raoul laughed, taking Gustave from Christine and hugging him tightly, "They are going to have a full orchestra for Schubert's eighth symphony if you would like to see that."

Christine looks at a man with a violin case with an odd feeling in the bottom of her stomach. He turns around and she realizes it is the principal violinist from the performance. She turns her gaze to the sparkling jewels at the bottom of her skirts, then back to her son and husband, "That's just fine. I believe Gustave and I have had enough excitement for tonight, anyway."

"Suit yourself."

The family heads outside for their carriage where Raoul sets Gustave in Christine's lap once they are seated. The night sky is filled with stars as they head off towards de Chagny manor. For some reason or another, Christine is glad that she left the manor for a bit. However, she also becomes more curious about her son - how could he know the word music without her speaking about? In that very case, how was he able to speak at such a young age?

"Are you alright, dear? You seemed worried in the lobby."

Christine nodded as she looked off through the window - watching as the poor struggled to stay out of the now pouring rain. She looked down at her son who happened to fall asleep on her lap, "Yes, Raoul," the sudden coldness had filled her heart again and she knew her mind would suffer through the night, "Hopefully I'll endure."


	5. Chapter 4

Christine was surprised at the fact that her mind and thoughts survived in pureness throughout the night. In the morning she slaved away in the kitchen in preparation for her son's first birthday, which Raoul would miss at work. Her boy remained at her foot even as she set the cake on the table, frosted and all. She was lucky enough for Meg to escape from the Giry household to join her for a birthday brunch for Gustave. She sat him on a stack of papers upon a chair and shoved him in snugly, placing a cake piece in front of him.

"Happy birthday, my child."

With a kiss to his head and a ruffle of his hair, he dove into the cake. Meg ate her piece slowly and Christine simply stared at the beautiful mess of breading and icing. She turned to her son, the white icing covering his cheeks, and watched as he happily giggled and ate the cake piece.

"What's wrong, Christine?" her friend was a sweet, misunderstood girl and Christine only wished she could have lived as a simple a life as Meg, "I know you love icing. Something must be awfully wrong."

"It is nothing, Meg."

Christine dropped her fork after picking at her cake piece, folding her arms comfortably over her chest. Gustave had made a mess of his cake all over his face but surprisingly had none on the table. It intrigued her, "Christine-"

"Enough of my rich, boring, pompous life, Meg. How have you been?"

Meg set her fork down and shook her head. Her poor friend had always been more talkative than her and would have brought up something about herself by now. Meg glanced at Gustave, who looked longingly at Christine and then handed the one-year-old to his mother, "He's a handsome baby, Christine."

Meg gulped, looking down at her empty plate. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, "Mother insists that it's time for marriage. I don't want to end up like you, Christine."

Christine tilted her head, looking down at her boy who ended up smearing the icing on her gown, "Motherhood is not that terrible, Meg."

"Not that. You just seem so unhappy," she licked the icing off her fork and set Gustave's plate on top of hers, "With Raoul being gone most of the time, I could see why, but I am not sure if I could get married. Besides that obvious reason, when I bring up our great times at the opera you-"

Christine heard the word 'opera' and felt the coldness in her heart once more. Tears came to her eyes and Meg rested a warm hand on her friend's shoulder, "There, there. I am sorry, Christine."

"No, no. It is fine," her son cried out the word music and the ice turned to a fire - a burning, merciless fire in the pit of her stomach, "Oh, Meg, you wouldn't understand!"

"You are right, Christine, I wouldn't," she gripped her friend by the wrists, staring into her soul with cold, blue eyes, "I want to help you, friend."

Christine gulped down the tears and held her son instead, with not a care if the icing ruined her gown. She wanted to tell someone, but that would risk so much. That could risk her status, her child, her social standing, and worst of all - her life, "I cannot say," she looks up at her friend, who remains glued to her face, "My life forbids it."

Meg looked sympathetically at her friend, but all she could think of were the suitors that awaited her, "Marriage is not too terrible, right?"

Christine picked up a napkin and dabbed at the icing on Gustave's cheeks, "As long as you do not mind being a second-class citizen to your husband."

Christine set Gustave into his new bed, wrapping him in the blankets. He smiled sleepily up at mama and softly grabbed a strand of her curly hair. Christine kissed him on the cheek and straightened her nightgown before giving him a hug. He cooed 'mama' and Christine gave him affectionate kisses all over his face which made him giggle.

"Alright, my sweet. Time for bed."

Christine stood from his small bed and blew out the candle, "Mama!"

"Did you want the candle?" Christine felt around on the end table for the flaming fusees, then lit the candle, "Good-night, sweet child."

Christine set a glass over the candle and headed out to the hall, where Raoul waited outside of their bedroom door. She shut Gustave's door and looked over Raoul, who leaned on the doorway in his golden brown robes. He had the same smirk that he dawned on the wedding night and it made Christine anxious. He beckoned her with two fingers, Christine obeying his command.

"You look so beautiful in that gown."

He rested his hands on her waist and smoothed over the curves her body made from waist to hip. Christine gulped a breath of air and slinked past him into the bedroom, her mind suddenly becoming foggy, "Raoul-"

"It has been such a long time since we made love, my dear," he reached out to her face and kissed her softly upon the cheek, "I have waited for you this long, darling. You owe it to me."

Christine wrung her hands together nervously, staring off into the distance. The visions threatened to take over her mind, but she had to fight them away for purity's sake. Raoul touched his lips to hers in a firm, but gentle kiss and she shook - from fear or from excitement, she was not aware. He grew more urgent and placed a single hand upon her bosom, "Raoul-" she struggled within his touch.

"Christine, please!" he seemed almost sad - desperation was taking him at this point, "I need you. I crave your milky skin. Please!"

Christine sighed at his request and sat on the bed, looking up at him, "That's better," he sat beside her and pecked at her neck, "I know it is a lot to ask, but I want another child as well."

"Raoul-"

"I know you are busy with Gustave, but there is always a chance of death. And besides," he softly kissed her lips, the taste of her rosewater intoxicating, "you always spoke of a home full of children when we were younger."

Though Gustave frightened her with his uncanny capabilities, she thought that more children may be just what she needed. She loved the moments with baby Gustave more than anything and to have more of that time would definitely be heart-warming...


	6. Chapter 5

Christine went about her housework like she would on any usual day, but that day was anything but usual. As she had finished cleaning up Gustave's blocks, she heard the piano - which had been tuned on their outing to the concert. The maids had been let go for the week since Christine and Raoul were trying for a child, but it made no sense. The only other person in the house would be... Gustave.

Christine rushed downstairs, following the noise of the piano. Gustave sat at the bench, playing true chords and he grinned widely when he saw Christine step inside the small music room, "Music, Mama!"

Christine glanced at the piano stand, but there was nothing. She felt her heart become heavy, beating hard in her chest until she saw nothing but blackness...

 _"Love me, Christine!"_

 _"I cannot do that!"_

 _She remained stubborn and cold but felt immensely depressed because of what he had done. He was once a great friend to her. He was supposed to be a role model and a loving companion, "Don't make me do something I'll regret!"_

 _He shook her wrist with a deathly grip and she cried out in pain. It was not enough to stop his torture, but it was enough to frighten him away. Christine felt tears stream down her cheeks and she used her most impressive voice, even though that voice was still shrill and meek, "I'll never love you! Not again," he seemed more than furious and she tried to become submissive, kneeling before him, "I- I didn't-"_

 _"Shut up!" he bore down on her like a great god, "I know what I've become. I hate it, too. So why don't you help me, Christine? Go on," he grabbed her wrists and brought her hands around his neck, making her shudder in terror, "Kill me!"_

Raoul dabbed at Christine's forehead with a moist rag, Gustave standing beside mama with wonder in his little, sparkling eyes. Raoul looked at the boy for a moment and found something curious about him - he seemed very different. Not different in the way that he had to be sent to a special place to be dealt with, but different in the sense that he seemed very much out of place. He had just noticed the very strange color of his eyes, "Papa..."

Gustave gave Raoul a warm hug and he lost all doubt. Gustave was definitely his child, "I suppose you wouldn't be able to tell Papa how Mama fell."

"Mama scared. Fell on floor."

"Scared?"

Raoul looked at his wife who began to stir. She seemed very lost, staring questionably at Raoul and then at Gustave. Christine took the rag from her forehead and set it in the water bowl beside the lounge, "R- Raoul..."

"Relax, darling. You'll be alright," he softly kissed her forehead, Gustave sitting by mama's feet, "What made you faint?"

Christine looked down at her stockings, Gustave playing with his small cravat. She remembered how he played perfect chords and almost fainted at the thought. She feared Gustave, which made no sense - fearing a one-year-old boy, "It was nothing."

Christine stood from the lounge and gazed out the window, Gustave tugging at her to be held. She picked up her boy and cradled him against her chest, Raoul kissing her softly upon the cheek, "It had to be something, dear."

"Really, I'll be fine."

Raoul looked at Gustave who had his head rested on her breast. He seemed at ease in mama's arms and Raoul took a step back to admire his wife's great mothering, "I'll see to you later tonight."

Christine turned and watched as her husband left the room, exiting towards the direction of the front door. Gustave grabbed her shoulders and looked up at her. For the first time, Christine took in his odd eye color, "My God..." Gustave looked excitedly up at mama and Christine had no idea what to feel anymore, "Oh you cursed child."

She set Gustave on the floor and backed away to examine him from some distance. Why she was frightened of this young, innocent child, she had no idea. Christine sat on the window bench and watched trembling as Gustave toddled over to her, "Mama?"

Christine looked placidly at her small boy but feared him nonetheless. Gustave seemed very distressed by this sudden change and began to cry. He cried silent tears until Christine kissed his cheeks. She stood from the window bench and let her child wrap his arms around her skirts, "Mama," he softly cried.

Christine looked down at her son, softly touching his messy hair. Gustave sniffled his tears and begged again to be held, to which Christine obliged. She looked carefully at her son - at his features. He had a small, button nose with big rosy cheeks and the cute pout of a baby. His messy, brown hair was very similar to hers, but it was those eyes that threw her off - a weird color between green and yellow, "How is it possible?"

Gustave reached out and touched her cheek, "Mama!"

She was pleased that her son was happy again, but there was just something about him. He was not right. Not in the mental sense. In that regard, he was beyond brilliant, but in the sense that he was very much out of place. Christine set him down again and felt her heart begin to beat harder than ever before. Gustave worried for his mama, having never seen her so upset, but he remained the distance away. He watched Christine run to the hall and reached down his toes, rocking side to side, "Mama..."


	7. Chapter 6

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0bce8f1e8000c03320e0a060d432aac4"December was usually a happy time for the holidays - especially in the beautiful Paris, France - but Christine spent time watching over her child. He grew so fast and yet she did not. It began to worry Raoul the most, as he so badly wanted another child. Christine waited in the hall of the physician's office with Gustave by her side playing with the toys. They had been at it for months and yet she did not swell. Christine began to question everything./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="59ff1f2471572490c259d2a7b568d3d7"Raoul sat on the wooden examination table and watched patiently as the physician received test results on his fertility, "Your wife very fruitful, is she not?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a838400091f4f105a578a2d3ef62d6f5""Yes. She is a young woman and even her physician says she is very capable."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7c6968145db3822921c662a0a7bae2d2"Raoul's physician, Dr. Johnathan Brixham, gave a startling look to his patient. He looked back at the test results and shook his head - impossible! A white lie would have to calm him down, "These things happen quite often, you know. You bare a son and then-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="07bc00b9138cbdad5073846cc1f77e21""What is the prognosis?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e2d9111dad39d6cb7deea42228e8809b"Brixham looked to the test and set down his spectacles. He raised from the seat and gave Raoul a friendly pat on the back, "It could be very wrong, but it appears you are infertile."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1e3a2a9152f109aaa43d257b20bc7af5"Christine became suddenly nervous as she looked at Gustave. Every day he seemed more and more different. More intelligent and yet somehow frightening. He shared the toys with another child and they seemed to bond happily. Christine noticed something very familiar about the other child as well - a baby girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Meg left a check up room and gleamed at the sight of Christine, "Oh, dear friend," she rushed over for a hug and Christine beamed up to her, "I thought I'd never speak to you again!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5a8ba966ddb39904bb67b357c331db50""Your child is just adorable, Meg. Who is the lucky fellow?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="04cad867d390d3db46c4611372d98b24"Meg smiled and looked down at their children who played together harmoniously, "He is an old friend. A boy I knew from the ballet academy."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="881b2bba163530dd19c3f848810416de"Christine knelt on the floor beside Gustave and Meg behind her girl. They watched the little ones playing together and Meg looked down at the pocket watch in her hand - most obviously her husband's, "Oh, dear. Come, Fleur," Meg picked up her little girl, who whined at the instant she put the toy down, "Sorry, Christine. Louis will kill me if I am not home in time."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="acd06d0ad3128a27d0d080038596e1e2""That's alright, Meg. Enjoy her now while she is little!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8809b44f55fc207203a28cca9b8b4623""I will!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0ea36a30d5673449dccf32b61394fba8"Christine looked to Gustave who watched in a sad slump as Meg left with her daughter, "It was fun. Why she go, Mama?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2a658e14dd221ecdb2bff97edf894e4a""Mama's are always busy, Gustave."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="20017131d2b3d15e85ff138114000b8a"Raoul stomped up to them, saying nothing, but enough to startle her up to her feet. Christine took Gustave's hand, Raoul shaking his head in disapproval. Gustave felt the tension and looked longingly at the front door. He felt trapped between his parents, "Get to the carriage."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="560aac45fd21c2da4be454f032346c85"Gustave followed behind mama closely, looking back at Raoul. He stood there a mess, obviously angry, and Gustave felt as if everything was his fault. He was responsible for Mama being sad all day and now for Papa being angry at them. All he wanted now was to be at home and play on the piano./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cea589dbc0a993691b820bb7e115d405""Is Papa going?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="93c749f8ca917ae1d30f4daf20770cee"Christine looked down at her child, his inquisitive, sweet face a reassuring sight. She sighed, looking down at her gloved hands, and then kissed her child on the forehead, "I am not sure," she tussled his hair and he weakly smiled at her, "It does not seem like it," Raoul dismissed the carriage and waved at them through the window as he went the other direction, "It looks like Papa just needs some time to himself."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="03860e22a3bc68291d1c9f97ee43fd48"span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold;"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/em/span/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="799d14018b133b98724cc8f1630ccf3e"Christine sits beside the Christmas tree packing up a gift for her husband as Gustave stands by in his Sunday best. Christine sets the wrapped gift under the tree and straightens out her red gown, the golden sparkles getting everywhere. Gustave looks to his grandparents and they nod at him in approval before Emille approaches Christine./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="497ffe730806837067ed6f82c8f733da""Raoul will be late for the photographer. Do you know where he is?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="52ace5e8a9a5a0dec80958b7ac511723""I last saw him at the physician's-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e4745ac28ba5fbb44cdd1593c2ad0dcc"The front door shuts loudly and Raoul comes inside just behind the camera man. He smiles at Christine and switches coats for the photo, "Sorry I am late. I had to take care of something."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9a41ef4f1428d7f6ee9f0b07d69fe94f"The photographer set down the collodion and began preparing it for use as they gathered around the tree./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e168e0e85e48b4d5f8cca236a7530306""Alright. Wives to the right of husbands and sonny, to the right of Mother," he threw the black cloth over his head and nodded at the picture, "Alright. 3, 2, 1..."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="37a9d2c3db379614e7e0a9ad557a2cef"Christine looked blankly at the camera as the flash went off and a gust of smoke blew out. Gustave sat down by the tree and looked up at all the decorations as the photographer sent his men out with the camera, "The photograph will be ready in a few days time. Thank you for your payment, Monsieur de Chagny."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a0bde968fc3eae246759c8597ffc631d""Anytime, Georges."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ff86c8e8654f4e8adfff8edf0aaedeef"Christine grew happier when Raoul's parents finally left. They were always overbearing on her - criticizing her son and her past lifestyle - but she had to stay silent and accept their rude comments. She picked up one of the sugar cookies she baked and handed it to Gustave who then went off toward the piano after eating./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ec35bfeef962889cb91a87b199a6925c""You know, it is very odd, Christine," she turned to her husband, worried about what had happened in the office to make him so angry, "Doctor Brixham diagnosed me as infertile today. You wouldn't happen to be holding secrets from me, would you?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6e932011a3254328e252fb7be04d7ec7"Christine looked away from Raoul for a moment, facing the fireplace. She lost herself in the flames - in the warmth - but a sudden blow to her cheek rendered her conscious and a fire's warmth resonated with her face, "Answer me, woman."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d7c9e81d52e236c5e488980633a16aa6""I- I," Christine felt tears begin to roll down her face - now was not a time to be weak, "Raoul... something happened to-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a828e4659ddda4b9e5456beb44c489f2""Who was it?"/p  
p class="" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5a7e17955767e305ece53e478a33cf7a"Christine became silent until she saw a figure in the window. She was not sure, but it seemed familiar like the looming figure of a... ghost. Her skin turned pale and Raoul controlled his flaming anger to comfort her, "Christine?"/p 


	8. Chapter 7

Raoul waits by the bedside for Christine to rise - worried that she'd slept for almost a day now. Gustave stayed in his room with his toys and Christine's physician, Daniel Lefevre, stood to the other side of the bed.

"Smelling salts may help wake her."

Raoul watched patiently as Doctor Lefevre reached into his bag. He looked at his wife, his child a mystery to him, and knew he would have to keep a cool temper to avoid this from happening again. The physician barely opened the salt package before Christine leaped out of bed in a cold sweat, looking nervously around the room.

"It's him! I swore it was..." she noticed her physician in the room and felt rather shy, Raoul standing to the side of her very confused, "I," she stuttered, "I thought I saw-"

"We looked outside, Christine. No one was there."

She turned to the window and saw the setting sun, the clouds pink from the shadows of the light. Raoul set a hand on her shoulder and jumped back when she trembled - she was a mess. She hadn't been so riled since the first night in his manor after the events of the opera. Raoul followed Doctor Lefevre into the hall, the physician making a quiet statement, "I am useless in this situation, Monsieur de Chagny."

"You cannot be serious?" Raoul leaned against the wall, rubbing his temples, "You are a professional, are you not?"

"I believe it's not a physician she needs but rather a psychiatrist," Lefevre plucked a card from the inside of his coat and handed it to Raoul, "Torrance is a very trustworthy man, Monsieur. I assure you your wife will be in good hands."

Raoul studied the card - Torrance Faure, licensed in the study of female hysteria, "My... my wife is many a thing, Doctor, but she is not hysterical."

"Faintness, nervousness, hallucinations - these are only the start. You do not want it to get to the point where she has insatiable lust."

Raoul glanced into the bedroom and observed Christine frantically searching the room, shaking his head. She went from a perfectly normal wife to a frightened child within a day, "Alright. I will send for him tomorrow."

"Glad we had this talk, de Chagny."

Raoul waited in the parlor for Doctor Faure, Gustave playing with his new wooden train set. Raoul had been offered his gifts but set them beneath the tree again because of the nerves making him twinge in anxiety from the thought of this hysteria professional. There was finally a knock on the door and only a moment later Raoul saw a gentleman in a blue suit.

"Finally," Raoul offered a hand, the gentleman accepting his greeting, "You must be Doctor-"

"I prefer Professor Faure, if that is all right with you, Monsieur," he looked down at Gustave who held his train set, but stared up at the professor, "Plesant child you have, Monsieur. You must be a proud husband," said he with a gentle patting of Gustave's head.

"Yes, he's marvelous," Raoul looked in distaste at his son, but reclaimed his calmness quickly, "Well, there is really one reason you are here."

"Yes," he took out a fountain pen and picked up his briefcase, "Let us see the specimen."

Christine watched the setting sun, slipping into her nightgown as the sky stained red and the snow began to fall. She shivered after her gown was buttoned and touched the glass. She loved the sound of snow and leaned her forehead against the window to cool off her head.

"I know you're out there," she whispered, "I can feel your overbearing presence."

Her name in a whisper - she turned around, but no one was in sight. She heard it again - her name - and looked around the room. It was dim, yet the setting sun provided enough light to sit a few feet from the window. Christine looked to her wardrobe, a door which she had left open, and saw nothing but her gowns and various pairs of shoes at the bottom. A pair which did not belong to her caught her eye and she gazed at them cautiously.

Something stepped out - a dark figure. She looked into its piercing golden eyes and screamed, balling up on the floor. She felt the cold grasp of its extremities, but nothing else, "Christine!"

"Get away!"

Christine stood up and looked about the room - nothing. Her wardrobe was closed and Raoul stood in front of her, another man to the side of him. She felt like a spectacle - a ghost of her former self, "Raoul, please, you must believe me! There is something happening. I... I can feel _him_."

Raoul became quiet ghost-like and backed away from Christine, the professor noting this interaction. Christine looked to Professor Faure and asked in desperation, "I am not mad, am I? I only say what I know."

"Madame, would you mind telling me who this "him" is?"

"No, Monsieur," Raoul interjected, "We swore _never_ to speak of him again."

Professor Faure wrote this down as well, "May I have a moment with your wife, Monsieur?"

"All right," Raoul removed his coat and set it swiftly onto the rack, "Darling, I do not want mention of him anymore. Get it out to the professor."

Christine looked to the window, resting her arms just under her chest. She felt more like an experiment than a human being. The gentleman sat by her husband's writing desk, studying her patiently. She sighed, resting into the rocking by her bedside.

"Why are you here?"

Professor Faure set down his briefcase and prepared for any information he could withdrawal from her, "My name is Professor Faure and I am an expert in female hysteria. I was sent to your husband through Doctor Lefevre."

Christine felt tears stream down her cheeks for a reason unknown to her. She covered her eyes and breathed deeply to settle herself.

"Please. I am not mad. I see him!" she wept, "He comes to me in my dreams and toys with my imagination like some sick Jezebel! I only want to be free from his grasp."

"Were there any significant events that may have led you to dream of him? An assault, perhaps?"

Christine held her tongue but knew she would have to tell one day. She knew he would tell Raoul about it, though, and did not want that to ruin anything. So she spoke of the many other terrors of him.

"There are many things you must know. Especially an important detail if you are to understand what I speak of. My maiden name is Christine Daae. I was the soprano in the hands of that beastly man."

Faure lowered his writing hand, looking worriedly at the girl. She insisted she was completely sane like all other patients suggest, but if it weren't for the recent papers, her argument would be very sensible.

"Madame, you have read the papers, haven't you?"

"Well not yet. Why?"

Faure shook his head, looking out at the falling snow. He lit the desk lamp since the sun was just about gone, "They have declared him dead," Christine shook her head in disbelief of her own madness, "No one has a body yet, but they have uncovered various compositions along with a fair amount of broken and bloodied porcelain."

"That cannot be," she cried, "I know he's here! I feel him. I hear him. He... he mocks me."

"Is there anything I should know?"

"Please!" she exclaimed, "I am not mad. Hear me out. Please do not punish me with those toxins. Please do not lock me away in those awful sanitoriums. You have to believe me! I know he's there. He is always there. Following me, watching my every move!"

Christine looked to the doorway and saw him yet again. His tall, unwavering figure made her quiver in her skin and she wept even more. She wanted him to leave her be. The torment of what he did stayed on her long enough.

"Oh, false angel! Leave me be! Have you no mercy?!" she fell to her knees, "Go back to hell, you nasty creature! Leave my family. Leave this place!"

"Now that is no way to speak to your son, Christine."

Christine blinked and saw Gustave in tears at her words, attempting to cuddle him. He shoved her in response, her head hitting the chair, and ran off to his bedroom. She held her tongue, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I am an awful person. I swore it was him. I... I am so sorry," she wept, rubbing her sore head, "My poor, poor child a victim to my nasty tongue," she looked to the professor and sucked in her cheeks before speaking, "Do anything you like. Anything so I don't hurt my child again."


	9. Chapter 8

Raoul watched the professor fill two syringes - one with a murky substance and the other with a fluid almost like water. He stirred valerian root into hot water and followed the Viscount upstairs for treatment. Meanwhile, Christine remained in bed waiting for the cures. She hoped they would work - hoped that she could be normal around her precious child.

She watched Gustave from across the hall play with his trains and make the trolleys run into his blocks which were stacked to form "brick walls". He looked up and saw his mother, then turned around to play with his train set as the professor and Raoul made their way into the bedroom. Professor Faure had two syringes and a teacup and she hoped that one of these many tinctures would cure her of her madness.

"All right, Christine," he set down the teacup on the end table and picked up a syringe filled with a murky substance, "Two vaccinations and a brew of valerian root tea. This one hurts much more, so let us do this first."

Christine stiffened up as he rubbed her arm with alcohol to prepare her for the vaccination. She winced as she felt the needle sink into her bare arm, exhaling to stop from crying. He dropped the syringe and picked up the next one and she suddenly began to feel very dizzy. Her head was cloudy and she felt as if she could not move.

"Last one, dear, and then I want you to drink all of the tea."

Christine watched cloudy-eyed as Gustave stepped into the room and climbed into bed beside her. The professor rolled down her sleeve and pushed up the other for her second vaccination. Gustave watched the needle sink into her arm and he thought it intriguing.

"That is all," Professor Faure put the two syringes in a wool sack and lifted the tea cup to Christine, "Now drink. I will be back tomorrow morning to see your progress."

"Thank you, Monsieur," Raoul nodded.

"Any time, Viscount. Best wishes to you and your wife."

Christine sat dizzily beside her child, the drug still affecting her mentally. She pinched her temples, fighting off the headache from that awful substance. Gustave looked up at mama and set down his train set, feeling sorry for her.

"I forgive," he said with a hug, "I love Mama."

Christine smiled and weakly embraced her boy as Raoul stepped downstairs with a wooden pipe in his hand. He headed for the writing desk at the far left corner of the room and smirked when he saw Christine begin playing with Gustave and his train set. As he filled the pipe with tobacco plant he gazed at the paper and grinned at the headline.

"I did not know you smoked, Raoul."

He lit the plant and inhaled the bitterness of tobacco smoke, "It is a recent habit."

A servant had ushered Professor Faure into the parlor and he smiled at both Christine and Gustave playing together. He went to the left of the room and sat in green, floral-patterned chair behind the writing desks'. Raoul inhaled another puff of the tobacco smoke and the professor nodded and took out his own pipe.

"I had no idea you smoked, Monsieur."

"Recent habit," Raoul removed the pipe from his mouth and nodded in Christine's direction, "She's been rather irritable, but I think the treatment is helping with her hallucinations."

"She seems to be just fine," Professor Faure lit his pipe and inhaled, "Any dizziness or trembling?"

Raoul nodded after another intake of smoke, "She could not keep up this morning. She almost put her bloomers on over her linens."

The men laughed at the mental image and Christine took Gustave up to his room to play. Professor Faure stood to dump the ashes of what little tobacco he had left into the fireplace, stuffing the pipe in his trouser pocket.

"No issues with anything else, then? She has an easy time keeping up with household duties?"

"She seemed all right in that area. Although we have servants that take care of most, if not all, of those things."

"Right," Faure removed his top cat for a moment to wipe the soot from his forehead, "A treatment every other day shall do. The drugs are very intense and too much would cause the hysteria to progress. Then it is on to treatment number two and if that doesn't work, well..."

"What? What is worse than treatment two?"

"She could be sent to a sanitorium. They supposed help the mentally ill, but it is really an excuse to do experiments on the poor or insane."

"Oh."

"Yes. Nasty business, Viscount," the professor looked at the paper on the writing desk and smiled, "Have you shown her the paper? It may put her conscious to rest."

Raoul skimmed the headline further and thought it would frighten her more because of the fact that they haven't found anything resembling a body. He inhaled from the pipe again before dumping its remains into the fireplace.

"Not yet. I fear it may just frighten her more since they haven't found his body."

"A fair enough assessment," Professor Faure put his hat on again, smoothing out his waistcoat, "Well, de Chagny, I wish your family the best. I will be back tomorrow for more injections. Do not forget to give her the valerian root tea at night. It takes care of her hallucinations."

"Yes, professor," Raoul set the wooden pipe into a drawer of the writing desk and began to read the paper, "Have a good evening, Faure."

"You as well, de Chagny."

Raoul watched as the professor left the manor, then turned his head over to the paper. It might have frightened Christine had she seen it, but it also made him weary. His sworn enemy could have been lurking anywhere: _Opera Ghost Sworn Dead, Despite Missing Remains_...


End file.
